But this blog post represents the definitive blow-by-blow, course-by-course run-down of our meal. I'll be adding/fine-tuning the dish descriptions a bit more over the next few days, but here we go…

Please realize, this is not a definitive account of Noma Japan. That's because chef René Redzepi is already changing and adapting, evolving and swapping in new dishes.

I find that even a week later, I'm still thinking – still dreaming – of that exeptional banquet. For those unable to make it over here, please enjoy vicariously!

You can’t help but be wowed by that setting. From the 37th floor of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, you look out toward the distant hills and the unmistakable snow-capped, sunset-silhouetted cone of Mt. Fuji. It is hard to think of a more auspicious backdrop as you settle in for the three-hour, 16-course banquet.

That view is immediately forgotten, though, as soon as the floor staff start serving the food…

Course 1: The magic kicks in from the very first dish, jumbo shrimp served atop a platter of ice. They are superb, premium sashimi quality and so fresh they’re still dancing their final quivers.

But it is the seasoning – "flavors of the Nagano forest" the menu calls it – that defines this dish. A dozen tiny wild black ants are carefully arranged on the shrimp, their little pinpricks of sharp acidity acting as a perfect accent for the sweet, pink flesh.

Shima-ebi wth flavours of Nagano forest

"None of the other courses are as provocative, although ants are used so routinely at Noma, their presence should come as no surprise…"

Although the shrimp served on the day we were there were shima-ebi – a brace of them each – other varieties are also being used, depending on whatever is available on the day.

Course 3: Monkfish liver that has been smoked, frozen and shaved onto crisp bread – from baguettes baked by the folks at Sucre Coeur in Osaka. You've never seen an-kimo like this before: outrageously good.

Shaved monkfish liver

We didn't get the wine pairing, but by this time we were ready for a glass or two. Starting with this one…

Course 4: Cuttlefish "noodles" in the style of zaru soba. Served chilled – "We just can't do that in Europe", says René, "people demand their food hot!" – they came with an iced broth of rose petals from Ishigaki (Okinawa).

Koika cuttlefish "Soba", with rose petal dip

Course 5: Clam pie. Premium shijimi (freshwater clams) shucked individually by hand and painstakingly arranged on a tart crust infused with kombu seaweed and seasoned with a sharply, deeply acidic paste derived from wild kiwi fruit (one of the chefs also mentioned grated wasabi in this, but it wasn't there for us).

Unbelievably intricate work... René told us that there are 45 to 50 of the clams per portion. And it takes 6-8 chefs over 4 hours to shuck and clean 7 kgs of the suckers, starting early in the morning. "We only do it because we think it's worth it" he told us...

Fresh water clam and wild kiwi

Course 6: Even René's take on tofu is a revelation. Freshly ground from organic beans, the soy milk is set with a special coagulant, steamed for 20 minutes and topped with dainty white morsels of walnut collected last fall from wild trees. There was a layer of miso and parsley sauce at the very bottom.

Tofu, just steamed with wild walnuts

Tofu will always taste like tofu. But this is some of the sweetest in all Japan.

Time for some sake: This was an amazing unfiltered, naturally feremented brew from Terada Honke, in Chiba.

Course 7: At this point sous-chef Thomas Frebel comes out and tells us he has a dish for us that they're still working on. No complaints whatsoever about being guineapigs for this experiment – especially since it involves uni (sea urchin)...

Sea urchin, maitake and cabbage

Inside the cabbage leaf, a generous serving of Hokkaido bafun uni, seasoned with a rich sauce made from maitake mushrooms and miso. Superb. A great contrast of textures, even if the central spine of the cabbage was a bit too fibrous.

Course 8: Probably the least spectacular of the dishes to look at (and the hardest to get a good image of). But it was undoubtedly one of the highlights.

Scallops dried for two days are made into a thick fudge, with beeswax "and a little bit of butter" (as served in CPH). But the Japan version gets an exta treatment: it gets aerated into a light, spongey texture. Underneath this there were crunchy little beech nuts (foraged in the autumn) and kombu seaweed oil, this one darker and richer than the kombu oil served with the citrus earlier. What a dish. This one blew us all away!

Scallop dried for two days, beech nuts and kelp

Course 9: Slivers of Hokkori pumpkin, a delectable variety of winter squash that was simmered with kelp and arranged on the plate with fronds of kombu seaweed and salted-dried cherry blossoms. This was served with a milky koji-based sauce accented with cherry tree wood oil. Definitely one of the prettiest of all the dishes. And one of the tastiest.

Hokkori pumpkin, cherry wood oil and salted cherry blossoms

Course 10: Then another jaw-dropper. Mysteriously beautiful, metallic shiny black leaves, which René just described to us as "origami garlic flowers". Of all the dishes, this was the one that brought it home just how much work had gone into this meal.

Garlic flower

They were made from black (fermented) garlic, were flecked with salt, and had a texture somewhere between liquorice and fruit leather. We just picked them up and nibbled… and nibbled… trying to pin down the flavour. It wasn't "garlicky" at all, but it did have hints of that rich allium sweetness you get when you cook down garlic low and slow. Intriguing. And so good!

Technically this was one of the best courses. In practice, it turned out to be a bit too substantial, sapping our appetite ahead of the main course. But each of these starchy corms added a bit too much heft to the meal, at a stage where we were just about to embark on the "main" dish. Nice gari-style ginger pickles with them, though, to perk up the palate.

Roots and starches with ginger

Sake part 2: Inemankai, from the community of Ine on the Tango Peninsula in northern Kyoto Prefecture. Sweetish, but with a nice clear acidity too. And a beautiful reddish tinge that comes from the akamai (red rice) they use to ferment it.

Course 12: Wild duck, caught by the traditional way, in nets. Then hung and dry-aged for three weeks, roasted and served whole – though already carved. Superb!

Course 13: Turnip. "Cooked in yeast" was the initial explanation. But it went a lot deeper than that, involving the mycellium of cultivated shiitake. And a beautiful green broth made with parsley.

Yeast and turnip cooked in shiitake

Course 14: Rice and sake lees. The first of the dessert courses was also a standout. Crisp rice starch wafers, on a gelato of sake-kasu (lees), on a base of cooked mochi rice (sweet rice) – with a sauce prepared from foraged wood sorrel (oxalis), which is one of the wild herbs that were from the start a signature of Noma in CPH.

It was served with a beautiful green dip, also from the wild kiwis (but sweeter and less acidic than the paste with the clam pie).

Course 16: The very final offering was a treat to the eyes as well as the taste buds. Fermented mushrooms, enrobed in chocolate. Served with little twigs of wild cinnamon to chew on with our Tim Wendelboe coffee. Minds and palates well and truly blown.

Wild cinnamon and fermented mushroom

This is more than a labour of love by René and his team. It's an insane, madcap project that is really pushing the envelope on what can be done with Japanese ingredients – and what the Noma team can achieve.

We were there on Day Three, and the effort and intensity that has gone into the project was clear on René's face as he worked alongside the wait staff, bringing us dishes, explaining the ingredients and the processes.

As I wrote in my review:

"Less than two weeks in and the menu is already evolving, as Redzepi adjusts and swaps in new dishes. By the time Noma Japan comes to a close (on Feb. 14), everything is likely to be even more finely honed.

"Even after that, the ripples from this bold, imaginative experiment will continue to spread. Redzepi sees this as a step to take Noma in Copenhagen to the next level. Meanwhile, here in Japan, a generation of chefs and customers have had their eyes and palates opened wide, beyond the confines of Japanese tradition.

"A magnificent success."

Team Noma hard at work…

… and then breathing out at the end of service: Head chef Daniel Giusti (right) and sous chef Junichi Takahashi. Great job guys!

And this was our menu:

PS: For another take on Noma Japan in a very different style, check out this fantastic review in emoji by Tejal Rao, who is the restaurant critic for Bloomberg.

03/30/2014

Looking back to last month, the camellias were coming into gorgeous bloom in our garden...

They were in full bloom throughout Kyoto too when I made a quick foray down there in mid-February. And also on the plate, when we dined at Sojiki Nakahigashi, the wonderful little ryoriya near Ginkakuji. This was the opening plate of seasonal appetizers, featuring a "camellia" of aka-kabu turnip, with stamens of ground yuzu peel on a base of dried persimmon...

As for the rest of the plate, here is short run-down of what we were served.

The grilled fish (right of the #flower") was grilled masu trout, served with a black bean. The nanohana greens were simply seared over charcoal. Under them was a single simmered oyster. The small dried fish at the front were just lightly seared. Under the shiny camellia leaf were ink-black wild mushrooms that had been foraged in the fall and preserved. And at the front right, buri yellowtail aged in koji (kojizuke) layered with kabura turnip pickled in shio-koji.

Symbolically, this dish marked the path from winter into spring. Beautiful poetry on a plate, by Chef Hisao Nakahigashi.

At the time we were there (mid-February), Chef Nakahigashi had just finished a long session of shooting with an NHK camera team in his compact kitchen. The results will be aired tomorrow (Monday 31st March) as part of its prestigious "Professionals" series.

10/09/2013

Today is the first day of Chef Dan Kluger's four-day residency at the New York Grill, at the apex of the Park Tower in Shinjuku. I was among a select few who were invited in for a sneak preview — and, more importantly, a pre-tasting — of what he's serving.

Spoiler alert: it's really good!

Better yet, we were able to watch and learn as he put several of his signature dishes together in front of us.

There was already a platter of kabocha squash toast laid out for us to munch on as we observed Kluger in action. This was a great snack: it's rich and savoury, with the natural sweetness of the kabocha balanced by a light acidity from freshly made ricotta. It's served on slices of bread that are lightly pan-fried in olive oil to give an extra layer of crunch. On top it was given a light sprinkle of shredded mint leaf and chili piquancy.

This will not be on the lunch or dinner menu — instead it will be served as a special snack offered for the next few days at the New York Bar. It's so good they should keep it on full time!

The appetizer plate is smoked hamachi yellowtail, with a tasty dressing of sudachi, horseradish and wasabi. It was paired with lightly salted cucumbers — kind of like an asazuke pickle — and tiny cucumbers with their flowers.

There was a generous amount of smoke in the flavour mix, but the balance with the dressing worked well.

We then watched as Kluger put together two main dishes. First up was a complex salad of oven-roasted broccoli, served on an amazing thick "vinaigrette" made from beautiful green Sicilian pistachios. Coarsely blended with lots of herb oil, it had a texture more reminiscent of lentils, and a powerful aromatic perfume.

On top of this he scattered cubes of lightly caramelized sweet potato, which added colour and an extra dimension of texture.

To finish it off he gave it a drizzle of chili oil, and then grated on plenty of lemon zest. Very impressive. And substantial.

Next we watched as Kluger put together a dish of pan-seared amadai snapper. First he prepared a light appetizing puree of Japanese turnip. Around this he poured a dressing of shallots, diced turnip and diced red chili, which were cooked in a liquor made from Reisling and Niagra grapes mixed with yonezu vinegar. He also adds halves of muscat grapes, to gave an extra little pop in the mouth.

After putting the pan-fried fillet on top, he sprinkled on some artisan crystal salt from Maine (he brought this over with him). Beautiful. And again, very satisfying. These are definitely Big Apple-sized servings.

This was an abbreviated version of the feast that Kluger is serving at the New York Grill (both lunch and dinner), which also includes a meat course, plus dessert — apple pie, of course.

Add to this the view from the top of the Park Tower and it all adds up to a very satisfying taste of New York.

New Yorkers will need no further introduction to Chef Dan Kluger. Besides making a name for himself as the head chef of ABC Kitchen, he has also won significant awards including new York Magazine's Best new Chef and Time Out's Chef of the Year (both 2011).

Even more laudable is his strong focus on using local, organic and/or sustainable products. He introduced a number of those items to us: an organic olive oil from a small-scale ranch in California; a champagne vinegar, also from California; and the aforementioned sea salt, which is made by hand by a husband-and-wife team in Maine.

12/12/2011

Although we'd heard some positive whispers about Fujiya1935, nobody we know in Tokyo had actually been there, so we really didn't know what to expect. In other words, it was a stab in the dark (apologies, but that's the way Osaka often looks from the lofty distance of the eastern capital). An adventure.

So our appetite was well whetted with great anticipation as we entered...

From the ground floor reception area — still laden with flowers celebrating the annointment of the 3rd Michelin star — you look into the small, bright, pristine-clean kitchen area as you are shown upstairs. Chef Tetsuya Fujiwara and his wife work together here, occasionally emerging to help their friendly serving staff.

The dining area (no photos, sorry) is split into two separate rooms, has a modern Scandanavian feel, with birch wood beams and virtually no decoration. We had booked online, and hadn't specified which menu we wanted. So there was an element of surprise there too. Fortunately, we were given the upper of the two lunch menu options (¥6,500). This is what it comprised...

The bite-size "truffle" was a delightful trompe l'oeuil, wonderfully presented in a black lacquerware box, laid on a bed of cacao nut shavings. Beautiful. And yes, they weren't whole truffles — though they were of course deeply imbued with that wonderful aroma.

The truffle theme continued in the second appetizer plate. "Bread of truffe a lot of bubbles" was the menu description. An alternative name might well have been "chou a la creme aux truffes". Sandwiched inside the "bread" — which was indeed full of sponge-like cavities — was a gorgeous truffle-infused cream.

Next up: "slow-roast foie gras". A morsel of smoked foie gras, presented on a large handsome platter, with a fragrant sauce poured over it. The foie was not in the least bit gras, just super-concentrated in flavour, perfectly complemented by the slivers of ginger root (raw but blanched, with only a mild heat)...

To follow: "turnip". It sounds simple; it was anything but. A quarter of delicate kabura, lightly seared on its inner surfaces; served with fine, translucent slivers of a different variety of turnip...

The bread is served warm in a hand-made wooden box, with the butter tray, side plates and butter knives also made of wood — the same fine-grained keyaki (zelkova).

At the bottom of the bread box there was a very hot slab of slate, to keep the bread rolls warm throughout the meal. They're not baked in-house, but custom-made each day by Le Sucré Coeur one of Osaka's premier boulangeries. The butter was scattered with shreds of roasted onion.

The pasta course: "Wild boar, hand made pasta; big black pepper". Delicate hand-made pasta, described to us as "somen" but only to convey the fineness of the gauge. The wild-boar ragu was outstanding: the meat was cooked down in freshly squeezed carrot juice. And there was a delightful sense of playfulness in the black "peppercorns" that were scattered over the top.

Surely we can't eat those peppers whole like that, we asked. Just try it and see, was the answer from Madame Fujiwara as she served it. And of course, they aren't what they seem: they turned out to be crumbly balls of black olive tapenade with just a hint of pepper spiciness. This was outstanding.

The last main course: "Cow cheek meat, Red sauce". That description sums it up perfectly. Plenty of beetroot in that vivid sauce. And garnished with dried raspberries and tiny amaranth leaves.

A work of art. Delectable.

Desssert: "pudding of a chestnut, Jelly of coffee and rum". Again beautifully presented...

Coffee jelly is a popular old-style dessert, often served in traditional kisaten coffee shops. This was the best I've ever tried — the strong coffee flavor only lightly sweetened, and with plenty of booze to add a deep counternote.

The box — made of kiri (paulownia) wood — contained whole chestnuts from Okayama, simply dry-roasted ("iburi " in Japanese) and peeled, sweet, mealy, and tasting wonderfully of autumn, laid on a bed of chestnut shells.

The final dessert, to go with our tea: "cold souffle of white chocolate" on a thin layer of thick citrus sauce, and sitting on a bed of crunchy chocolate "dirt".

One of the best meals of the year, and most definitely worth the shinkansen journey. Next time, though, we're planning to go there for dinner.

01/08/2010

A few things that everyone agrees on about nanakusa, the 7 herbs of spring: You eat them on January 7th; you cook them up with okayu, soft-cooked rice porridge; and there are seven of them. Or at least there should be...

Exactly which 7 herbs should be used is a different matter. Traditions vary from area to area. Today we bought a mixed bunch of nanakusa in our local farmers' market, and when we got them home we found there were just 5 different plants, including common-and-garden komatsuna greens, a vegetable similar in size to spinach. (It also included a baby kabu turnip, but that is officially one of the 7 herbs, even though the rest of the year it's an ordinary vegetable.)

We also bought a package of nanakusa at our local Kinokuniya supermarket: the plastic carton was printed with a design of 7 herbs (including names). This contained 6 plants, including a couple of babykabu turnips and a fistful of chickweed we could have uprooted ourselves for free.

Nonetheless, we chopped them up and mixed them into our genmai-gayu (we make our porridge from lightly polished brown rice), the flecks of jade green adding a gentle bitterness. This is simple and wholesome fare — exactly just what is needed after all the holiday feasting.